


Melt in Your Mouth

by teacuphuman



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Indecent acts performed on confections, M/M, Phone Sex, X-rated gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: Eames sends Arthur a sweet treat to make up for being away on Valentine's day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msmorland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmorland/gifts).



> For msmorland, thank you for your patience! I hope you like it! Prompt was: box of candy.
> 
> This is un-beta'd, so any mistakes are mine.

 

Arthur tilted the box back and forth while the he waited for Eames to pick up. He grimaced at the contents, unsure of whether or not Eames had meant it as a joke or if this was one of those gestures Eames made in the spirit of romance that Arthur never really noticed until they were pointed out to him.

 

“Darling,” Eames rasped. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Shit, what time is it there?” Arthur checked his watch and winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about the time difference.”

 

Eames cleared his throat, the muffled sounds of him shuffling around in bed making Arthur stare longingly at the pillow across the room where Eames  _ should _ be sleeping.

 

“Nonsense, it’s always Arthur time on my watch.”

 

Arthur smiled into the phone, then frowned when he remember the box. “Did you send me something?”

 

“It’s there?” Eames asked, perking up. “How is it? Do you like it?”

 

“I, um. What is it?”

 

“Arthur, surely I haven’t been gone so long that you’ve forgotten what a cock looks like.”

 

Arthur sighed. “No, of course not, but what am I supposed to do with it?”

 

There was silence on the line, then: “Is that a trick question?”

 

Arthur laughed, sitting down on the side of the bed, Eames’ side, and fiddling with the lid of the box. “No, god, no. I’m just not sure why you sent me a very lifelike chocolate penis.”

 

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Eames said, and Arthur could hear the smile in his voice.

 

“Is it supposed to remind me of you? Because it’s circumcised, so I have to admit you’re not the first cock that springs to mind.”

 

“And just which cock is?” Eames demanded, sounding affronted.

 

“Mine,” Arthur told him, smiling when Eames laughed.

 

“I asked if they had one that was uncut and I was told no, because they didn’t think people found them appealing” Eames groused.

 

“Did you send them a picture of yours? Might help change their minds.”

 

Eames chuckled. “I did not, but I’m glad that you think so. I did, however, send them a strongly worded letter. Then I used an alias to order one anyway. The quality really is top shelf.”

 

“So I’m supposed to eat it? Are you wanting to watch? What’s the protocol here?” Arthur scooted up the bed to sit against the headboard, taking the box with him.

 

“I’m not saying I’m opposed to you sending me pictures, but you don’t have to. You like chocolate, you like cock. Seemed like a win-win.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Arthur laughed. “Okay, I’ll play along, how do you want me, Mr. Eames?”

 

“Anyway you’ll let me have you,” Eames purred.

 

Arthur laughed. “Hold on a sec.”

 

He dropped his phone to the bed, pulling his sweater off over his head and wriggling out of his pants. If he was going to send Eames pictures, he was going all out. He took the chocolate cock out of the box, and picked up his phone. He held the cock to his cheek and rolled his eyes up, snapping a few pictures before changing positions. He held the monstrosity in front of him, miming horror at the size of it, and took a few more. He selected the best of the batch and sent them off to Eames.

 

Eames roared when he opened the pictures. “Darling, you’re too much.”

 

“You’re the one who sent me a giant, edible cock,” Arthur pointed out. He put Eames on speaker and took a picture of himself licking the head, sending it straight away.

 

“Oh, I like that one,” Eames told him, his voice getting deeper.

 

“Do you? How about this one?” Arthur asked, hitting send on a picture of the cock in his mouth, pushing his cheek out.

 

“Mmm, yes. Very much,” Eames said. “It occurs to me that we need pictures of you like this with my cock.”

 

“Maybe next time you should mail yourself home instead,” Arthur told him, letting a little petulance seep into his tone.

 

“Arthur, you know I hate being away from you, but we agreed this job was too good to pass up.”

 

“I know, but you were supposed to be gone six weeks and it’s been eight. It’s Valentine’s day, and I miss you.”

 

Eames was silent on the line and Arthur mentally cursed himself. He knew it wasn’t Eames’ fault that the job had run long, or that there was a price on Arthur’s head in Istanbul, making it impossible for him to fly in. They’d been having a perfectly pleasant moment and he’d ruined it.

 

He set his teeth against the tip of the confection and took a picture of his mouth, sending it immediately.

 

Eames chuckled. “Well, you certainly know how to get my attention.”

 

“How far down my throat do you think I can fit this thing?” Arthur asked, trying to get them back on track. “I’m afraid it’s going to melt while I play with it.”

 

“Melt and drip down your throat?” Eames asked in a lewd tone.

 

“Is that what you’d like it to do?” 

 

“Hmm, I might get jealous.”

 

Arthur suckled the head and then pushed the cock into his mouth, taking pictures as he progressed. The chocolate really was high quality, and it left a thick sweetness on this tongue as it moved further and further back.

 

“Arthur, you’re indecent,” Eames teased. “You have no idea how badly I want to be chocolate right now.”

 

Arthur smiled around the cock and took a picture. The chocolate was beginning to soften from the heat of his mouth, and just as he was about to pull it out, the head burst open, spurting a thick, rich cream over his tongue. 

 

“Arthur?” Eames asked when Arthur made a shocked noise. 

 

Arthur groaned, carefully pulling the chocolate out and trying to catch the creamy filling with his tongue before it dripped onto his chin.

 

“Is that...what is that?” he asked, sending Eames the pictures he just took.

 

“Jesus, Arthur,” Eames breathed, then composed himself enough to answer. “Williams pear liqueur fondant. There’s chocolate ganache lower down, I believe.”

 

“It’s incredible. And weirdly semen-like in texture. A little thicker.” 

 

“What are you going now?” Eames asked.

 

Arthur smirked and sent Eames a picture of him licking a trail of fondant from the shaft, then one of him with fondant running over his chin. 

 

Eames groaned. “I should have saved the damn thing for when I got home. Not that the pictures aren’t lovely, darling, but I want so badly to suck you off right now.”

 

“Do you?” Arthur asked, setting the chocolate back in the box. He snapped a few pictures while he licked his fingers clean and sent them. The next photo was of his own cock, hard and glistening at the tip from all the indecent noises Eames had made in response to Arthur’s dessert.

 

“Oh, Arthur,” Eames growled, making Arthur shiver.

 

“See something you like?” Arthur shoved his underwear down, kicking them off the bed and slouching against the pillows. If they were doing this, he was going to be as comfortable as he could be.

 

“I like everything about you.”

 

“I believe you were saying something about sucking me off?” Arthur prompted, curling his fingers loosely around the base of his cock.

 

“Mmm,” Eames agreed. “Oh, yes, your little picture show has inspired me. I really do think we should re-enact your performance with something a little more lifelike.”

 

“I don’t know, that was pretty realistic. Did you see the veins on that thing?” Arthur teased, stroking himself slowly.

 

“I did, and I still think I’m the wiser choice. Easier on your waistline.”

 

Arthur laughed, taking a picture of his hand on his cock and sending it.

 

“Tell me, do you remember that first time in Barcelona? The Reynolds job?” Eames asked, his voice going low and dangerous.

 

Arthur shivered. “God, yes. The job was a shit show and we ended up running for our lives from the moment we woke up.”

 

“And do you remember how we saved our skins? Give yourself a little squeeze for me, pet”

 

“Yes,” Arthur said, high and breathy, doing as Eames asked. “We doubled back after the first twenty-four hours and checked back into the same hotel.”

 

“And you’d had the foresight to book an extra room in another wing, just in case. We coasted in like we’d been there the whole time, because…” Eames prompted.

 

“Because the last place they’d look for us is exactly where we’d been,” Arthur answered, spreading precome around the head with his fingertips.

 

“Exactly. It was either bloody brilliant or horrifically stupid. I’m still not sure which.”

 

Arthur laughed. “Either way, we didn’t get caught.”

 

“True. And do you remember what we did that night? How I thanked you for dragging me along with you to safety?”

 

Arthur closed his eyes, because how could he forget? It hadn’t been the first time they’d slept together, but it did mark the first time it wasn’t planned. Wasn’t a way to kill time or meet one’s needs. It had been spontaneous, and messy, and utterly perfect. Even then, it had felt like a beginning.

 

“You told me you would blow me, but I had to do all the work.”

 

“No, I told you I would blow you, but I was too exhausted to move,” Eames corrected. “We’d been awake for nearly three days and the adrenaline had worn off. I could barely get out of my jacket, nevermind getting you out of your pants. A little firmer, love. Speed up a bit.”

 

Arthur did, taking a picture to prove it. “To be fair, I didn’t manage to get my pants off either.”

 

Eames’ laugh ended on a moan and Arthur’s mind supplied a vision of Eames on that hotel bed in Barcelona. Dirty and rumpled, pawing at Arthur while he smeared his mouth across Arthur’s cheek. He’d wanted Eames so badly in that moment. Needed him to prove that they’d both survived. That they would live to see another day.

 

“You rolled me onto my back and straddled my chest. Your knees were tucked against my ribs and you somehow still smelled incredible.”

 

Arthur snorted. “I doubt that.”

 

“You did, I swear. You always do. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. Are you wet, Arthur? Are you thinking about my mouth?”

 

“I’m never not thinking about your mouth,” Arthur informed him, and he was wet, Eames’ voice always had that effect. It was almost a shame Arthur shut him up as often as he did, but there was also Eames’ mouth, and that had very little competition for Arthur’s favourite plaything.

 

“I’m so hard it almost hurts,” Eames panted. “Remembering the way you tilted my head back and slid your cock between my lips. You were so casual about it, like I’d offered you a drag of my cigarette.”

 

Arthur moaned. “It didn’t feel casual. It felt like the only thing keeping me from losing my mind was feeling your mouth on me. We were exhausted, and the last thing we needed right then was sex, but it also felt like the thing we needed most.”

 

“Like that’s what was holding us together,” Eames added. “I still remember the sound you made when I started to suck. I’ve never been able to draw that exact sound out of you again, but you can be sure I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

 

“Your mouth, God, I’d never felt heat like that before. Why had we never done that before?” Arthur asked, gasping a little as heat started to pool low in his belly.

 

“Because back then it had still been a competition. A race to see who could come out on top. Quite literally. We didn’t stop to enjoy it for very long.”

 

“I enjoyed it that time,” Arthur huffed, his free hand moving down to cup his testicles. “I’m sure as hell enjoying thinking about it now.”

 

“Good, good. I wish I was there, darling. I’d let you crawl on top of me and keep me still while you fuck my mouth.”

 

“God, Eames,” Arthur groaned, fishing for his phone so he could take another picture, his hand nearly a blur as he worked his cock.

 

“Yes, love, just like that. Do you remember how you grunted and ground down on my face, pressing yourself deeper and deeper with every thrust?”

 

“I remember how well you took it,” Arthur gasped. “You opened up so perfectly and let me take what I needed.”

 

“I still have the scar from your belt under my chin.” 

 

Arthur groaned, his cock throbbing in his hand. He was close, so very close, and Eames always knew just which buttons to push.

 

“That’s it, darling, show me you remember. I remember it all. The saltiness of your sweat, the heat of your skin. The tang of your come as it flooded my mouth.”

 

Arthur’s whimper was drowned out by the roaring of his blood in his ears. He wanted to hold on, wanted Eames to come with him, but he was on the edge and he could feel his skin start to tingle, his nerves pricking to attention as his cock wept with anticipation.

 

“I swallowed every drop. I was greedy for it. I kept you in my mouth, do you recall, or had you passed out by then? I didn’t want to let you go. I knew then that things had changed and that I’d never let you go. That’s when I realized I’d loved you all along.”

 

Arthur choked out a cry and started to come, making of mess of his hand and his stomach, pumping until he stopped arching off the bed, then holding on a little longer still. Just like Eames had on that bed in Barcelona.

 

“Darling?” Eames called, his voice high and reedy now, on the cusp of his own completion. Arthur took a photo while he licked his fingers clean, sending it to Eames and grinning when he heard the telltale hitch of breath that signaled Eames coming.

 

They sat in silence until their breaths evened out and Eames made a snuffling sound that Arthur knew to be him rubbing his face against his pillow.

 

“You should sleep.”

 

“I think I already am,” Eames told him, sounding rough and drowsy.

 

“Dream of me?”

 

“Always, darling. Always.”

 

Arthur smiled and disconnected the call. He still missed Eames, but he’d survive. Eames would be home in another week, and they’d fall back into old routines, just like the time before, and the time before that. And they’d wait a little longer between jobs, taking the time to enjoy each other and work on the house, making a life for themselves so that when the time came, they could simply walk away from dreamshare. 

 

Arthur wiped his stomach with tissues from Eames’ nightstand and crawled under the covers. It was still mid-morning, but he was warm, and sated, and this side of the bed smelled like Eames. There was nothing else to do but sleep and hope he found Eames waiting for him in his dreams.

 

Seven months later…

 

Arthur shut his laptop and rubbed his eyes. The job wasn’t difficult, but the extractor was an idiot and Arthur had spent the last two weeks putting out fires and cleaning up the destruction left behind. He was tired, and stressed, and he hadn’t been home in too long. His phone vibrated as he stripped off his shirt, a cropped photo of Eames’ flamingo socks popping up on the screen.

 

“Hello, you.”

 

“Darling,” Eames purred across the line, making the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stand on end. “Did you send me something?”

 

Arthur grinned and dropped onto the hotel bed, putting Eames on speaker. “Tell me, do you remember that first time in Kyoto?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Eames gives Arthur an 8-inch chocolate cock made by United Indecent Pleasures. Arthur gives Eames a box of chocolate buttholes made by Edible Anus.


End file.
